


Step Up

by notaguitarfret



Series: "They're all girlfriends" AU [3]
Category: Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Comfort, Duke is lowkey gay, F/F, Fluff, Gen, McNamara's highkey gay, Period-Typical Homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-31 09:45:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15116804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notaguitarfret/pseuds/notaguitarfret
Summary: After Heather McNamara (accidentally) pisses Chandler off, she turns to Veronica (and Duke) for advice.





	Step Up

**Author's Note:**

> So if you haven't read the last entry to this series, I recommend doing that first (though it's not mandatory). That being said, this is more plot-based than anything, and will be followed up in the next entry.

Heather watched Heather leave the cafeteria, her search for Veronica beginning. As soon as the double doors shut her out, she let out a relieved sigh.

“ _Thank_ you.” She turned to Heather, having never looked so grateful in her life. Heather gave an amused huff.

“You don’t deserve the misery of spending an evening with Kurt and Ram,” she said dryly, taking a swig of her coffee. “No one does.”

McNamara then turned her head back towards the door, pouting. “Now I feel bad for Veronica,” she mused. “Maybe we should’ve said she was coming with us.”

Chandler let out a dismissive huff. “You’re not giving Veronica enough credit. As if she’d accept such an absurd request.” She picked up some of her lunch with her plastic fork, examined the soaked, cold mush, before plopping it back onto the plate, causing a slight splash of water that hadn’t been drained properly. A couple of drops landed on McNamara, who scrunched up her nose and wiped it off with the back of her wrist.

“Besides,” Heather continued, paying no heed to the accidental assault. “Had we included Veronica, Duke would’ve went off her ass about us not inviting her.”

Heather gave an understanding nod. “Good point.”

The two sat in a brief silence, before Heather spoke up again.

“Maybe we should _actually_ go out that night?” She glanced at the taller girl hopefully. Heather shot a glance at her.

“Why? I only said it to ditch Duke,” she said while dropping her fork onto the plate.

“She might find out we lied.”

“How?” Heather arched a brow.

Heather shrugged. “I don’t wanna risk it.”

Heather let out a laugh. “Even if she did find out I wouldn’t give to flying shits.” She then grabbed her plate. “Perhaps she’ll get the hint that we don’t wanna have a threesome out with Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum over there.” She curtly nodded over to the two jocks talking among themselves, their gestures hard and heavy, as if they were trying to catch a girl’s attention by acting as tough as possible. She then stood up, which was soon mimicked by Heather.

“I wouldn’t want to have a threesome with her around either,” she added, face twisted in a mixture of disgust and humour.

McNamara followed Chandler over to the pile of plates that already looked like a child attempted to build a Jengo tower, except didn’t know how to build in a straight line. Honestly, the only thing holding it together was a raunchy blend of cold, chunky gravy and hardened, sickly-looking custard. Heather had to hold her breath when placing her plate on top of someone’s half eaten congealed mash, feeling as if she’d get poisoned by breathing any air surrounding the shitpile.

Heather then followed on, quickly placing her plate on top of Heather’s.

Then it came crashing down.

McNamara was quick to dodge the tower of mush toppling over - probably having gained quick reflexes in cheerleading practice.

Chandler, not so much.

Heather froze as she watched the garbage pile crash and splatter onto Heather’s bright red blazer and grey checkered skirt, jaw hanging open. The sound of numerous plates hitting the floor seemed to silence the entire canteen, all eyes turning to the scene presented in front of them.

Heather dragged her gaze away from the many pairs of eyes glued to them and dared to face Heather. Big mistake.

Heather’s eyes were now ice cold slits, piercing right through her. Heather had to stop herself from trembling underneath her glare.

“You stupid _fuck_!” she spat, taking a step back. Heather winced at the insult, taking note that the whole student body was watching them intently.

“Heather I-” she stammered, taking a step forward, only to be stopped by Chandler holding up her two index fingers, signalling for her to stay put.

Without another word, she turned around and stalked out, her movement stiff as to not let the sloppy liquids spread anywhere else. Heather watched her go in stunned silence, and it wasn’t until the sound of the door swinging shut hit that murmurs, snickers and giggles began to arise from the teenagers surrounding her. Shame burned through her flesh.

She let her blonde locks swoop over her face, an embarrassed side fringe forming over her right eye, then darted out of the cafeteria. Once out, she paused, staring down the empty hallway.

She chewed on her lip, trying to think up what to do. Go after Heather?

Hell no, she’d get a figurative ass kicking.

 _Hide_ , she thought.

 

* * *

 

By “hide,” Heather had told herself she’d hide for the remainder of lunch. It wasn’t her original plan to stay off school the next day.

She had lied to her dad and told him she’d caught a stomach bug, and he had thankfully allowed her to skip the next few days of school. The entire day she had been lying on her mattress, staring at the ceiling.

She knew she was probably making things worse by avoiding Heather, but she just couldn’t muster up the confidence to face her and apologise. How Veronica had managed to do so after delivering something far, _far_ worse, she couldn’t figure it out.

That gave her a little bit of comfort, though. Veronica had fucked up far worse than she had. Drunken vomit is at least ten times worse than left over cafeteria food. Perhaps she wasn’t going to die the next time she stepped into Westerburg afterall.

Perhaps.

Her mind was still buzzed up from the anxiety, though. For the entirety of Tuesday she had been running the events of yesterday on repeat, and it wasn’t helping at all. The more she remembered the devilish glare handed over to her by Heather, the more she thought _yep, that’s the end. Might as well legally change my name. No point in being called Heather anymore._

Oh, God, what about Heather and Veronica? She dreaded to think what Heather might have told them. She could picture it now. The three of them wearing cloaks, Chandler holding a huge stick. They’d offer her as a sacrifice to the popularity Gods and light her on fire like the scene in Children of the Corn.

Okay, maybe that was an exaggeration.

Heather would never wear a cloak.

 _Also, Veronica’s too nice for that,_ she thought, _she’d probably tackle Duke to the ground before she could light her wooden rod on fire, then untie me from the wooden pole, all the while pushing Chandler away. Then she’d catch me and carry me away with the two bitches on her tail, laughing the entire time._

She snickered.

 _Wait, would Veronica be able to catch me if I fell from a crucifix?_ she questioned. _I mean, maybe?_

She thought back to how she had thrown that vodka bottle at the dickhead that had tried to drug Heather a few nights ago.

 _Probably._ She simpered. _She’s way taller than me, anyway. I’m like, 5’1? She’s like six foot or something. I’m probably as light as a pillowcase._

Then she scoffed at herself.

_God, Heather, stop analysing Veronica, she’s not an English paper._

She giggled to herself.

_I’d rather analyse her than an English paper._

She then paused. Why the hell was she finding so much enjoyment in thinking about Veronica?

_Um… because I’m right? Veronica’s way more interesting than an English paper._

She shook her head, tearing her thoughts away from her friend.

 _Wait… what if she_ doesn’t _want to be my friend anymore?_ She frowned. _What if the Heathers really do kick me out the group?_ She nibbled on her nails. _I’ll never be able to talk to them again._

She moaned into her hands, the pit in her stomach becoming deeper.

 _Maybe I should just apologise?_ She swirled her finger around the hem of her light yellow nightgown, then glanced at the clock.

 _She might be asleep,_ she told herself, her gaze moving over to her phone. _Or just about to. Waking her up would just make things worse._

Speaking of sleep, Heather figured she might as well gain some of her own. Letting out an exasperated sigh, she flopped over onto her stomach, shutting her eyes.

 

* * *

 

Dreamland was rudely interrupted by the piecing sound of the phone ringing. Veronica’s eyes shot open, her body flinching by the unexpected sound. As her senses began to organise themselves, she felt something shift in her grip. She blinked and looked down, and was immediately reminded that she had fallen asleep snuggled up against Heather.

“Ugh…” she heard her groan, burying herself further into Veronica’s chest. Veronica let out a tired huff of laughter.

“Aren’t you gonna answer it?”

She felt Heather’s head shake. “Who the fuck is calling me at one in the morning?” She then twisted her head around to glare at the phone which continued to ring.

“Maybe Kurt and Ram wanna see if we’re up for phone sex,” Veronica joked, though her voice lacked any enthusiasm due to being weighed down by exhaustion.

Heather returned back to her original position of being cuddled up against the brunette, back against the phone.

“Add that to the list of reasons why I’m not answering,” she grumbled.

The two of them listened to the last few rings, before it finally stopped. The two girls exhaled in relief simultaneously, then returned to their slumber.

Then it rang again.

“FUCK!” Heather blurted out angrily, sitting up in her bed. Veronica watched her lean over to her nightstand, snatched the phone off of its stand and begrudgingly held it up to her ear.

“Who is it?” she hissed into the phone. Veronica could only hear a faint voice, it wasn’t clear enough for her to recognize. “Heather, why the fuck are you ringing me this late?”

Veronica groggily sat up, rubbing her eyes with her knuckles and letting out a yawn, all the while listening into half of the conversation with who she assumed was Heather McNamara.

“We went on the double date tonight, remember?” A pause. “No, she’s here.” She glanced at Veronica, then turned her attention back to the phone. “Why would we be ignoring you?” she muttered, rubbing her temple with her free hand. Then her eyes seemed to light up in the dark, and a smirk gradually formed on her lips. “Wait, wait, when did that happen?” A snicker escaped her as she spoke. “Holy _shit_ , I only just missed it!” She burst out laughing.

Veronica, completely dumbfounded, tugged on Heather’s sleeve. “What’s happening?”

Heather turned to her, trying to contain her amusement. “Veronica- ‘Ronica,” she spluttered through laughter, crawling over to her. “You gotta hear this.” She turned around and fell backwards, caught by Veronica. She held the phone up in front of them both. “Heather, Heather, update Veronica on the drama.”

Veronica leaned her head closer to the phone in order to hear Heather’s voice clearly enough.

“Uh…” she stuttered, her voice quiet. “I accidentally spilled a whole cafeteria’s worth of leftovers on Heather on Monday.”

Veronica paused. “As in, Chandler?”

“Yeah…”

Veronica stifled a giggle. Duke let out another laugh, struggling to hold the phone still.

“Guys, it’s not funny!” Heather cried. “She probably hates me!”

Veronica let out a snicker. “It’s a _little_ bit funny.”

“It’s fucking brilliant,” Heather chortled. “The only thing not funny about it is that I wasn’t there to see it.”

Veronica let a few more laughs out, before sliding the phone out of Heather’s hand to hold it close to her ear and mouth. “So is she not speaking to you?”

Heather was quiet for a moment. “I don’t know. I haven’t been in school for the past two days.”

“Oh yeah, I’ve been meaning to ask about that. Are you sick?”

She paused again. “No. I never was.”

Veronica frowned. “Then why were you off school yesterday and today?”

“...I didn’t want to face her.”

She pouted, beginning to feel guilty for laughing. “Have you spoken to Heather at all?”

“No.”

Duke suddenly spoke up. “If it makes you feel better, she’s probably more embarrassed than mad.”

“What makes you say that?”

Duke shrugged. “If she was mad, she’d probably be bitching her mouth off about you.”

McNamara gave a fearful whine. “She’s still gonna be mad,” she said solemnly. “I’m so fucked.”

Veronica gave the phone a pitiful look. “Hey, I’m sure things will work out. Just don’t worry too much okay?”

“But-”

“Like she’ll be so petty to still be mad about it after two days.” Duke then tapped her chin and huffed. “Actually, that’s exactly like her.”

Heather gave a muffled groan from the other end of the phone. Veronica gave a vexed look at Heather and lightly slapped her on the shoulder. She mouthed an “ow” in response.

“Heather, listen to me, okay?” Veronica’s tone softened, an empathetic smile appearing on her face. “Just apologise to Heather, and even if she’s mad, it should blow over.”

“What if it doesn’t?”

Duke rolled her eyes. “Heather, some cafeteria gunk is far from the worst Heather’s had spilled on her.” She grinned cockishly. “Want me to go through the list?”

“Not really, but you’re gonna do it anyway.”

“Let’s see… cow shit, horse shit…” With each substance she thought of, she kept track of it with her fingers. “Cum, cum, more cum…”

Veronica’s face twisted in disgust, and she could imagine McNamara’s doing the same on the other end.

“Bird shit, gas - that one was kind of my fault - uhh, did I say cum?”

“Yes,” Veronica answered bluntly.

“Oh, I’m _sure_ I’ve missed one.” She hummed and cupped her chin. “ _Oh_ , that’s right.” She straightened herself up so that she’d be eye-level with the girl she was leaning on. “Her little rookie’s vomit.” She gave a provoking smirk. Veronica shot her a look.

“I’m not her _rookie_ ,” she snapped. “But…” She turned her gaze away from Duke and back towards the phone. “She makes a good point. I thought I was past the point of no return when that happened.”

“Yeah, now just look at her,” Duke added. “The Head Cunt can cuddle up with her and watch a movie like the biggest lesbian I’ve ever seen.”

Veronica glared at Duke, who was holding back a shit ton of giggles.

“She was _drunk_ , Heather,” she coldly reminded her, before giving a taunting grin. “So I don’t think you’re one to speak.” She then purposely wrapped her arm around her, trapping her between her limb and her body. Heather’s smug grin quickly morphed into one of chafed, as she attempted to slip out of her grip.

“Um?” The sound of McNamara’s voice drew both of their attention back to the phone.

“ _Anyway_.” Duke had to raise her voice over Veronica’s cackling. “My point is, you’re not going to die the next time you see Heather. Maybe just a bullet through the foot.”

“That isn’t very reassuring,” Heather mumbled. Heather rolled her eyes.

“Not literally, dipshit.”

“I think she knows that,” Veronica said, before bringing the phone closer to her. “Heather, you’re gonna have to keep your fingers crossed that her worst punishment is going to be getting you to kiss her ass for the next few weeks.” She grunted, thinking back to all the effort she had to put in to get Heather to even _consider_ forgiving her for the events of that night at the party two months ago. “Just try and sound sincere when you apologise.”

The phone went silent for a second.

“Veronica?”

“Yes?”

“...Could you come with me to apologise?”

Veronica simpered. “I can give you a pat on the back, but I can’t apologise for you.”

“I know, I know.” Heather sighed. “I’m just nervous she’ll flip out at me.”

“That’s exactly what’s going to happen,” Heather said, arching a brow and smirking. She was then met with a sharp “ _shh_ ” from Veronica.

“It’ll be fine, Heather. I’ll be right behind you.”

Heather paused again, before letting out an uncertain “Okay.” She gave a slight exhale. “So, could I meet you at the beginning of lunch tomorrow? We can go find Heather then.”

“Oh…” Veronica gritted her teeth. “Tomorrow?”

“Bummer, Heather, because we’re ditching tomorrow,” Heather said apathetically.

“What?” Heather’s voice grew more panicked. “Why?”

Heather and Veronica caught each other’s gaze.

“Do you want to hear the full story?” Veronica asked. Heather, confused and yet curious, prompted her to begin.

Both Veronica and Heather told Heather about their disastrous double date with Kurt and Ram, and how Veronica had ended up injuring herself when trying to drag Heather away from Kurt’s grip.

“We got away, though,” Heather assured her. “Just with a headache and a sprained wrist.”

Veronica looked at her in surprise. “Wait, you hurt your wrist?”

She scoffed and waved her hand dismissively. “It’s nothing, honestly.”

She gave her a sympathetic look. “It wasn’t the one I pulled, was it?”

Heather lifted both of her wrists, swirled them around and winced after a short period of moving her left wrist. “Both hurt, but Kurt pulled me harder.”

“Why? What happened?” Heather asked over the phone.

“Veronica and Kurt decided it would be a great idea to start playing tug of war with me as a rope,” Heather replied.

“I didn’t think it was a _good_ idea, just the best idea at the time.”

“I mean, you could’ve just kicked him in the balls but that works too I guess?” Heather said snarkily. “But hey, we both came out with battle scars so each to their own.”

“Are you both okay?” Heather asked, some actual, real concern in her voice. _Only from McNamara,_ Veronica thought. Then she shot a subtle glance at Heather. _Usually._

“We’re fine,” Heather replied, exasperated. “Just don’t expect us to come in tomorrow.”

The phone in Veronica’s hand let out a defeated sigh. Veronica let out an apologetic laugh.

“Sorry, Heather. Just don’t worry about it too much, okay?”

Heather hesitated, before letting out a reluctant “okay.”

Heather then swiped the phone out of her hand. “Good luck with kissing the Queen Cunt’s toes, Heather,” she said in a tone that, if you didn’t know Duke, would sound somewhat kind. “But we’re gonna go the fuck to sleep.”

“Oh- right, uh-”

“ _Bye,_ Heather,” Heather sang in a raspy, tired voice. She then pulled herself away from Veronica and began to crawl over to her nightstand in order to place her phone back onto its stand, though not before Veronica threw in a “goodnight!” in hopes of Heather hearing it.

“Christ, what a pillowcase,” Heather tittered, throwing the long, curly phone cord onto the other side of the nightstand.

Veronica rolled her eyes. “To be fair, I’d be worried too if I were in her position.”

Heather shot her a humoured glance. “You _have_ been in that position,” she shot back while sliding beneath the duvet. “It baffles me to this day how you got away with that.”

Veronica chuckled, crawling into the covers with her. “I may have gotten a little help.”

Heather arched a brow. “Oh?”

She glanced at the idle phone, then at Heather. “So long as you don’t tell Heather.”

Heather blinked at her. “Heather…?”

“Chandler,” she clarified. Heather curtly nodded, then pinched an imaginary zipper and dragged it over her lips.

“Well,” Veronica began. “On that night, Heather McNamara pulled me over and offered to help me out of the situation.”

“Wait, really?” Heather sounded intrigued. “I thought you left straight away.”

“I did. She followed me.”

Heather snorted. “ _Pillowcase.”_

Veronica ignored her remark. “But yeah, she caught up to me and said that she knew something that might get Heather to change her mind.” She gave a light scoff. “I honestly considered not taking her offer at first. I was so pissed at her - _all_ of you, for that matter - I just didn’t think it was worth fighting for a place in the Head Bitch Committee.”

“Thanks, that means a lot,” Heather said, voice dripping with sarcasm. Veronica shot her a warning glance.

“It wasn’t exactly my fault,” she fired back. “I was only defending my friend.”

Heather rolled her eyes. “Yeah yeah, we get it, you’re a white knight.”

“ _Anyway_ ,” Veronica grunted. “The next day Heather took me down and bought Heather a new pair of shoes - mind you they costed an arm, a leg, and your fucking soul.”

Heather raised her brows.

“She gave them to me and told her to not mention she was the one who bought them. I felt bad, to be honest.” She lightly rubbed her arm. “Not only did Heather pay for them, but she was already planning to buy them for Heather’s birthday. As I found out when I gave them to her, she’d _really_ wanted those shoes.”

Heather gave a huff. “She has half a year to think up another present.” She then laughed. “And, Jesus, Heather must have really wanted to keep you in the group.”

“I guess so?” Veronica shrugged. “Perhaps I shouldn’t look to far into it. Three hundred dollars to me is thirty to her.”

“Yeah. Still a pillowcase, though,” she muttered, flipping over onto her side, back facing Veronica, who frowned inscencerly.

“Aw, what, no cuddles this time?” She pouted.

“My dyke days are over,” Heather mumbled, her breathing beginning to slow. Veronica scoffed.

“It’s been a few hours.”

Heather said nothing, only raised her hand where Veronica could see and flipped her off. Veronica snickered, before allowing herself to drift back to sleep.

 

* * *

 

 

 

Heather was snapped out of her daydream by the sharp ringing of the bell. As if someone had flicked a switch, everyone in her History class had started to shove their textbooks and papers into their bags, racing to be the first one out the door.

Heather could already tell she’d be one of, if not the last one to escape. She was fine with that. She’d already confessed to herself that, yes, she was stalling talking to Heather.

That being said, it was the one time she was okay with being pulled over for another five minutes after lunch had started for her History teacher to go over all that she had missed, and for none of it to go in. She robotically accepted the sheets given to her and proceeded to stalk out the classroom.

She walked down two hallways to reach her locker, where she finally set down her bag to stuff the sheets of paper in there. It didn’t matter if they got creased, she doubted she’d actually read them.

She stuffed her bag in her locker after retrieving her essentials (her makeup pallet) and shut the locker door.

She struggled to hold back a startled gasp after seeing who had been hiding behind the ajar door.

“Look who it is,” Chandler said, a malicious grin already forming on her red lips. “It’s been decades.”

Heather’s brown eyes dropped to the floor. “Hi, Heather,” was all she was able to say in a hushed voice.

Heather scoffed. “Is that it? _Hi, Heather!_ ” She raised the pitch of her voice to crudely mimic McNamara’s. Heather winced at the mockery.

“Heather, listen, I-”

“So what gave you the courage to come in today?” Heather smirked, leaning on the wall of lockers as if this were a casual conversation. There was a long, drawn out silence between them, the only sound Heather was able to focus on was the impatient tapping sounded by the enlarged claws that were Heather’s acrylic nails.

“Nothing,” she finally answered, daring to glance at Heather’s cold, icy stare. “I needed to come in eventually.”

Heather arched a brow at her. “Is that you admitting that you stayed off just to avoid me?”

Heather gave her a weird look. “I thought you already figured that out.”

A fake smile appeared on her face. “You’re not wrong.” She then lifted herself off of the lockers and stood up straight, making it so that she towered over her. “Well?”

Heather’s face twisted into one of confusion and nervousness. “Well what?”

“Where’s your apology?” Her gaze darkened. “You’ve had two whole days to prepare it.”

Heather felt herself cling to her own clothes, her arms crossed over her midriff.

“It was an accident,” she mumbled, eyes enraptured with the dirty hallway floor.

“What?” Heather’s tone became more demanding. “Didn’t catch that.”

“I didn’t mean to… uh…” Heather bit her lip. “Spill all that shit on you.”

“That doesn’t exactly fix anything, Heather dear.”

She whipped her head up at that, blowing her blonde bangs away from her eye. “Then what will?”

Heather shrugged, pouting. “You’ve had some time to think about it.”

Heather gave a quiet grunt. “If you can’t think of anything then how do you expect me too?”

Part of her hadn’t intended for Heather to hear that. So when the red-haired girl leaned forward, gaze raking her, she felt that part of her begin to panic.

“Do you expect me to apologize to myself?” she hissed. Oh God, she’s pissed. Heather knew she was on thin-fucking-ice.

“No,” she murmured, eyes darting everywhere that wasn’t her piercing stare. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re what?” Heather tilted her ear towards her, cupping it with her pale hands.

“ _Sorry_ ,” she spat out, loud enough for Heather to flinch back at the sudden rise in volume. It only took her a fraction of a second to compose herself, however.

“It’s alright, Heather, I forgive you.” A sudden change in tone. Heather looked up at her, eyes shining with hope.

“You do?”

“No.”

Heather felt her heart sink into a pit. She meekly opened her mouth to speak again, but it seems another voice from behind her spoke for her.

“Hi, Heather and Heather!”

Whatever it was that was strangling her lungs seemed to release its grip at the sound of Veronica’s voice. She spun around to see the brunette, followed on by the shorter figure of Heather Duke.

“Look what the wind blew in,” Chandler said, folding her arms. Her tone had changed drastically to her usual sarcastic, somewhat civil demeanor. She then eyed Veronica. “New outfit?”

Veronica glanced at the clothing on her body - a turquoise tank top covered by a denim jacket, along with a short black skirt -  then shook her head. “No, I had to borrow some of Heather’s clothes.”

Chandler gave Duke a weird look, as to ask “why the fuck.”

Duke huffed. “Date last night was a disaster.”

Heather chortled. “The fuck did you expect, dipshit?”

She rolled her green eyes. Heather laughed again.

“While I’d _love_ for you both to tell your lovely romance stories,” she looked at McNamara, “we’re in the middle of something.”

“ _Oh-_ uh,” Veronica fumbled with her words, suddenly stumbling forward to grab Heather by her yellow blazer. “I just- _really_ need to borrow Heather for a minute.”

McNamara glanced up at Veronica with a confused expression, then did the same to Chandler, who was staring back at Veronica with a suspicious glare.

“Can’t it wait?”

She shook her head. “Nope.” She then lightly tugged Heather by the sleeve in order to get her to follow. “We’ll be back in a minute or two. Here,” she turned to Duke. “Heather can enlighten you on our date night while we’re gone.”

Duke shot her an irritated glance from the corner of her eye before following it up with a fake smile.

“Yeah, a lot of stuff to tell!” she said in a peppy voice. Chandler didn’t even get a chance to protest before Veronica dragged McNamara off down the hallway and around the corner. Heather had no idea where she was taking her, but she didn’t care. She was just glad to be free from Chandler’s shadow.

Veronica stopped at a poorly lit area of the school, next to some stairs that she assumed lead to the basement or the boiler room. Only the janitor ever came here.

“Why’d you bring me here?” Heather asked. Veronica looked at her, then shrugged.

“I had to think of an excuse to get you away from Heather.”

Heather gave her an odd look, before putting two and two together.

“Oh! Is that what you were doing?”

Veronica nodded. “Heather and I were listening into your little conversation. She told me to not interfere but I figured the apology wasn’t going to plan.”

Heather dejectedly looked at the floor and nodded.

“She’s never gonna forgive me, Veronica.”

She heard her sigh, then suddenly felt an arm drape around her shoulders, causing her to look up at a friendly smile.

“She will. If she can forgive me after puking my guts out on her shoes then I think she can find it somewhere in her void of a heart to let you off easy.”

Heather looked doubtful. “How? I already told her sorry.”

Veronica furrowed her brow. “I’ll think of something.” She then let go of her and walked over to the steps, brushed away some clumps of dust with her sleeve and sat down. Heather followed on and gave her a grateful look when the dirt was cleared before she sat down.

“Maybe we can go out Friday night?” Veronica suggested. “All four of us.”

“Where?”

“Anywhere. Just somewhere that’ll distract Heather from something this stupid.” She began to play with the hem of her skirt. “To be honest, though, I don’t think she’s looking for an apology anyway.”

“But she said-”

“She’s just leeching off of your guilt, Heather.” She held her gaze. “Don’t let that get to you. At this point she _expects_ you to get down on your knees and worship her until she gets bored.”

Heather parted her lips, about to jump to Heather’s defense, but found that she couldn’t. She let out a long, doleful breath.

“So what _do_ I do?”

Veronica grinned at her. “Nothing.” She looked over her shoulder, even though she knew no one was there. “Let her be a cunt for as long as she wants. She’ll get bored of it eventually.”

When Heather didn’t seem convinced, Veronica pulled her in for a hug.

“I don’t want her stepping all over you, is all,” she said, her voice gentle. “I can promise you, it’s possible to tire out a demon.”

She lightly chuckled, leaning her head on her shoulder. “I doubt that, but I’ll take your word for it.”

Veronica tittered, resting her head on Heather’s blonde hair. “If you want, you can just hang around me until this has blown over.”

After having being trapped in the cold that was Heather Chandler’s glare, Heather felt a newfound warmth flood through her and smiled.

“That would be nice,” she murmured, before a realisation hit her. "Wait... I thought you and Heather were ditching today!"

Veronica gave an exhilarated huff. "We were... but then I woke up early. At about seven or something. I tried going back to sleep, but that shit's difficult when you're wearing normal clothes."

Heather tilted her head up. "Didn't Heather give you any PJ's?"

"She offered, but I figured they wouldn't fit me." She giggled. "I think you'd know. You're both tiny compared to Heather and I."

Heather pouted, lightly punching her in the arm in order to act like she was offended. This brought out more laughter from the girl, and in turn, from herself.

"But yeah, I decided I might as well. Also..." She offered her a thoughtful smile. "I felt bad leaving you all alone with Heather when she was in a pissy mood with you."

Heather felt herself heat up under the warm smile and kind words being thrown at her. "Aww, you came in just for me?"

Veronica snickered. "I suppose I did." She then felt her shift closer to her, along with a hand caressing her arm, if not only for a couple of seconds.

They both sat in silence, Heather relishing the feeling of security that she found in her. It couldn’t last though, as Heather soon sat up.

“I should go find Heather,” she said. “We said that we’d be back in a minute or so, and it’s been _way_ more than a minute.”

Veronica chuckled. “I think she’s realised I didn’t _actually_ mean a minute.”

“Still.” Heather twiddled her thumbs. “I should get back and… _try_ to finish my apology.”

Veronica held her gaze for a moment, before gently grabbing her wrists.

“Like I said - I’m not letting you let yourself get stepped on.” She held a firm grip on her. “You’re gonna stand your ground, okay?”

Heather bit her lip, uncertainty churning in her gut. “How?”

“By not sucking up to her like some sort of demigod.”

Heather hesitated, then slowly nodded. “Okay… so if I’m not doing that… what do I do?”

Veronica grinned. “Alright, here’s what you’re gonna say…”

 

* * *

 

 

“...And then we made a run for it,” Duke finished her story. “Had to haul Veronica’s ass back to the jeep or she’d be face down in the mud.”

Chandler gave a huff of amusement. “As I predicted,” she said. “I’ve told you time and time again that those two buffoons are only good for party hookups.”

Heather let out a “tch.”

“Just because it was a _date_ doesn’t mean it couldn’t have turned into a hookup.”

Heather raised a brow. “So why didn’t it?” she questioned. “You said they were looking to bang you both.”

Duke let out a gag. “Ugh, their dicks were probably covered in cow shit. Sorry that I like to keep myself clean?”

It looked as if Heather was about to give a snarky remark back, but was distracted by the return of two figures coming around the corner.

“God, ‘just a minute’ my ass,” she grumbled. She took a step forward, about to continue her belittling of Heather, only to be talked over immediately by the shorter girl.

“Are you both free Friday night?” she blurted out. Heather gave a quizzical look, and was about to question her, but didn’t get a chance.

“Uh, yeah, why?” Duke asked, bringing out her nail filer.

“I was just wondering if you wanted to come round to my house that night? Just for a chill hangout.”

Heather found herself taken aback by the lack of fear or concern she had seen in the blonde’s hazel eyes only a few minutes ago. All that was left was a calm girl offering to lend her house for an evening.

She took a step forward. “What exactly are we doing there?” she asked with an underlying sliminess in her voice. Heather seemed unphased, as shown by a corner of her mouth picking up.

“Whatever we want. Truth or dare? Never have I ever? Croquet, maybe?” She then patted the red-head on the shoulder. “I won’t let you pay for anything - take it from me as a little apology for our mishap the other day.”

Heather narrowed her eyes, and was prepared to shoot back some sort of retort, but Veronica beat her to it.

“Let’s all talk about this at the lunch table,” she said, nudging McNamara with her elbow. “If we wait any longer then the only thing on our plate will be the leftover gravy from last Wednesday.” With that, she gestured for the trio to follow, to which Heather and Heather obliged. Chandler hesitated at first, before following on, only she took longer strides so that she’d be at the front with Veronica. Like hell she’d be behind.

As they walked, Heather would occasionally glance at Veronica, waiting for the right moment to catch her gaze. Eventually she managed to catch brown with her blue, and gave her a subtle glare.

 _You had something to do with that,_ she thought. It seemed like Veronica got the message, though not in the way Chandler would have liked.

 _Damn, you caught me red-handed,_ is what she could interpret from the simper appearing on her lips.

Heather scowled. Veronica had intervened, and had somehow managed to knock some sort of courage into McNamara.

_Don’t act so surprised - you’ve already pulled this shit with me._

Heather was startled when she felt Veronica’s dark eyes rake her. She dared not show it, though. She’d already been done over by her today.


End file.
